If Tomorrow Never Comes
by Kristen Elizabeth
Summary: Spock/Uhura. An away mission ends in tragedy...or does it?
1. Prologue and Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: My brain has been sucked into this fandom and if I don't get this idea out on "paper," I'll never get it back again. I hope you enjoy this first chapter. Thank you, Lisa, for all your help;)

And if you're here because you read my first story, "The Opposite of Logic," let me just thank you again:) The response I got on that story definitely inspired me to write this one!

* * *

If Tomorrow Never Comes

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Prologue

There had been no class at the Academy that prepared the future captains of Starfleet for the inevitable duty of laying a crew member to rest.

Much less two.

Whether he was prepared for it or not, two flag-draped coffin pods lay in front of Jim Kirk, ready to be jettisoned into space at his command. But even though he knew that they were empty, that they were merely representing the two officers...the two friends he'd lost, he wasn't quite ready to make that command just yet.

Two lives. He'd been responsible for them; he'd given the order that had sent them on what had turned out to be their last away mission. How could he expect the rest of his crew to ever trust his command decisions again? He'd leaped before he'd looked and two people had paid for his impulsiveness with their lives.

A hundred solemn faces were gathered around the empty coffins, but there was only one that Kirk couldn't bear to look at, for fear of what he might see in those dark eyes that were neither Human nor alien. Accusation. Perhaps even hate.

Spock had a right to those emotions. Kirk hated himself right then, too.

A not-so-gentle nudge to his arm jerked Kirk out of his thoughts. Beside him, Leonard McCoy murmured, "Jim, it's time to do this."

Knowing the doctor was right, that it would be wrong to drag out such a painful ceremony, Kirk stepped forward.

"We're assembled here today to pay our final respects to two individuals who in death, just as they did in life, exemplified the founding principles of Starfleet. Service. Dedication. Honor. Compassion."

Kirk's gaze flickered up to Spock. Although the man's eyes were fixed on one of the two coffins, his face was completely blank. Swallowing heavily, Kirk went on.

"Lieutenant Pavel Chekov and Lieutenant Nyota Uhura...your sacrifices will never be forgotten."

* * *

_Captain's log, stardate 2259.128. We're on route to the Ramatis system, the last known location of the _USS Gus Grissom._ It's been a month since Starfleet's had any contact with the deep space science vessel; all attempts at establishing communications have failed. Considering how close the Ramatis system is to Klingon space, I have every intention of approaching this mission with extreme caution. The problem could be as simple as an equipment malfunction. But it could be worse. A lot worse..._

* * *

Uhura woke to the unsettling sensation that she was alone. A quick grope of the still-warm, yet empty space next to her on the bed confirmed this. She sat up with a resigned sigh.

He'd left while she was sleeping. Again.

"Lights."

When the overheads came on, she was surprised to see Spock sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, silently dressing in what had just been the dark. Their eyes met for a brief moment before he returned his attention to tucking his uniform pants into his black boots.

"Were you going to wake me?" Uhura asked, a slight catch in her voice.

"I hoped that would not be necessary," he replied. "You are not on duty yet."

She slipped out of bed, clad only in a small pair of dark blue briefs, and reached for her robe. "Neither are you."

"We will be arriving at the Ramatis system within two hours," Spock reminded her.

"Yeah. Two hours." Uhura left the robe unbelted, exposing a long expanse of her flat stomach. "You could have stayed in bed a little longer."

He stood up. "It seemed more prudent if we were to arrive on the bridge at different times."

"Spock." She shook her head, her sleep-and-sex-tangled hair swinging. "Pretty much everyone knows about us and no one cares." Hesitating, she added, "Except for you."

His brow furred in confusion. "Nyota, did we or did we not agree over a year ago to keep our personal and professional lives separate while we are serving on this ship?"

"We agreed to keep them as separated as possible," Uhura corrected him. "Big difference."

"I fail to see the distinction."

"Yeah." After a moment, she sank onto the edge of the bed in defeat. "Of course."

Spock moved to go, but thought better of it at the last second. "I have said something wrong."

His conclusion, spoken with surprisingly awareness, made her smile sadly. "No, it's okay."

"Are you not upset?"

"I'm..." Uhura rubbed her suddenly throbbing temple. "I don't know what I am."

Spock walked back to her and knelt down, putting them at eye level. "You are tired," he said, taking her hand. "You have not gotten adequate rest."

"Well." She lifted her shoulder. "Who's to blame for that?" Before he could say anything, she leaned forward and gave him a short kiss. "I love you for worrying about me," she whispered against his cheek.

When Uhura pulled back, he cleared his throat and rose to his feet. "I will see you on the bridge."

"Spock."

He stopped at the door, looking back at her from over his shoulder. "Yes, Nyota?"

_What do you love me for? Do you love me? Why does it matter what anyone else thinks? Are you ashamed of me? Of us? Do you love me? Could we ever have a normal relationship? What is a normal relationship for you? Do you love me? Am I a comfort to you or a secret that needs to be kept? Could you ever tell me how you feel about me? What do you feel about me?_

Do you love me?

Uhura shook her head. "Nothing," she whispered. "Never mind."

Once he was gone, Uhura stood up and walked into the tiny washroom connected to her quarters, shrugging out of her robe half-way there. She stood in front of the mirror, almost completely nude, and examined her slender body.

There were dark patches on her skin, finger-shaped bruises where he'd grabbed her just a bit too hard in the heat of passion. They didn't hurt, but they were reminders that even if he could never say the words she needed to hear, he still desired her.

And for a half-Vulcan who was still suppressing his grief over the loss of his mother and his planet, that was saying a lot.

After her shower, she slicked on an apple-scented body lotion, a one-time birthday gift from Gaila. Her roommate had claimed it was popular amongst Orion women as it helped heal what she'd called "love marks."

The strong, sweet scent of the lotion brought tears to her eyes and in that moment, Uhura would have given just about anything to be able to talk to Gaila, to ask for her advice. Gaila had known men, even Vulcan men. She would have had some insight into Uhura's unconventional relationship. Even if she hadn't, she would have at least made a dirty joke about it...and right then, Uhura could have used a laugh.

She dressed quickly, only pausing long enough to carefully select her earrings. She chose the pair she'd worn on her first clandestine date with Spock back at the Academy, an antique set of twisted platinum hoops.

If he recognized their significance, she'd do Jim Kirk's laundry for a month.

* * *

"Captain, we will be reaching the Ramatis system in..." Chekov checked his navigational controls. "...fifteen minutes."

Behind him, Kirk acknowledged this with a sudden, "Let's go to yellow alert," he said, earning a couple of raised eyebrows from the bridge crew. "Uhura, what do you hear?"

"Nothing beyond the normal subspace chatter." She frowned in deep concentration. "There's some scattered Klingon transmissions, but that's to be expected this close to the Neutral Zone."

"Tell me if you hear anything interesting."

Uhura gave him a look. "You'll be the first to know, Captain."

Normally, Kirk would have chuckled at this, but their proximity to Klingon space had him on edge, as evidenced by the way he was leaning forward in his chair, tapping his foot against the floor. "Spock, are the sensors picking up anything?"

"It is difficult to get an accurate sensor reading of the entire system while we are at warp, Captain," Spock told him.

"What do we know about Ramatis?" Kirk asked, still fidgeting.

"The system is comprised of three planets; only one is currently inhabited. The two smaller planets are class M, but only barely as their atmospheres are..."

Kirk cut him off. "I don't want to know about their atmospheres, Spock." Shooting to his feet, he began to pace. "Of all the planets that border the Neutral Zone, is there some reason why the Klingons would focus on this system and attack any Federation ship that was near it?"

Spock arched an eyebrow. "With all due respect, Captain, I would remind you that at this point, any theories as to the whereabouts or fate of the _Grissom_ are purely speculative. To assume Klingon involvement is illogical this early in the mission."

"I just have a feeling," Kirk said almost to himself. "Chekov, I want you to be ready to raise our shields at a seconds notice, understood?"

The young ensign nodded nervously. "Yes, sir."

When Kirk sat back down, Uhura sought out Spock's eye. He looked at her only long enough for her to see concern shadow his face before he returned to his sensors. Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly as she turned her own attention back to the subspace frequencies.

On the bridge, they were Commander and Lieutenant. Nothing more.

"Dropping out of warp, Captain," Sulu announced. "In three...two...one."

Ramatis I loomed ahead of them amongst the star-dotted black expanse, a golden brown planet flanked on either side by two smaller planets that were more gold than brown.

"Sensors are picking up a ship on the other side of Ramatis II," Spock said. "It appears to be an Oberth class starship, the same as the _Grissom_."

"Uhura, open a channel," Kirk ordered.

"Channel open." Uhura shook her head a moment later. "No response."

Spock frowned as he studied the sensor readings. "Captain, I am reading no life signs aboard the ship."

Kirk's fingers closed into a tight fist. "Mr. Chekov." His voice was low and strained. "Set a course. Full impulse."

"Aye, sir."

They found the _Grissom_ ten minutes later, hovering in orbit around Ramatis II. The ship was minuscule compared to the Enterprise; a tiny science vessel that had seemingly been abandoned by its crew.

"What do you make of this, Spock?" Kirk asked his first officer.

Spock thought for a second. "There does not appear to be any external damage to the ship and the sensors detect no internal problems, either. However, there is something odd." He looked at Sulu. "Magnify the secondary hull, Mr. Sulu."

Sulu punched a few buttons to bring up a closer, clearer picture of the lower half of the ship.

"As you can see, Captain, the shuttlebay doors are open," Spock said. When Kirk gave him a look that clearly demanded further explanation, he went on, "Oberth class ships carry a shuttlecraft for planet-side exploration. The _Grissom's_ is missing."

"They went down to the surface?" Kirk guessed.

"Perhaps," Spock conceded. "Standard operating procedures dictate that the shuttlebay doors remain closed except during take-off and landing."

Kirk crossed his arms. "Well, not everyone follows standard operating procedures a hundred percent of the time."

"If I may put forth a hypothesis?"

"You mean a guess." There was an unmistakable twinkle in Kirk's eye, despite the situation.

Spock's eyebrow spiked. "It seems likely that the crew left the ship in the shuttlecraft and that they did so quickly."

"But if there was nothing wrong with the ship, why abandon it?" Kirk frowned. "Scan the planet for the shuttle or any life signs."

Chekov's fingers flew across his controls. "Sir, I am having trouble getting readings from the surface. There are too many ions in the atmosphere."

"That would be one reason to use the shuttlecraft," Spock noted. "The extreme ionization of the atmosphere would make transporting impossible."

Standing behind his chair with both hands on the headrest, Kirk was quiet for a minute as he turned the situation over and over in his mind. "We're going down to the surface," he declared. "Spock, Chekov, Uhura...meet me in the shuttlebay in ten minutes."

Uhura hadn't even managed to stand up before she heard Spock say, "Captain, as we cannot be certain of the surface conditions of the planet, it would perhaps be better to limit the away team to essential personnel only."

He didn't need to say her name for everyone who was listening to know exactly who he was talking about. It was written all over his face, whether he realized it or not.

Kirk looked him straight in the eye. "I've put together my team. If you think four is too many, you're welcome to stay here." When Spock said nothing, Kirk gave his bicep a friendly slap. "Relax, Spock. Weren't you just saying it was illogical to think the worst?"

Uhura waited until Kirk was gone before she removed her earpiece and stood up. Spock refused to look at her, even after she waited for his silent apology for several seconds. Finally, she turned on her heel and stalked off the bridge.

As far as she was concerned, Spock could just stay on the _Enterprise_.

She knew what she was now. He'd succeeded in making her officially upset.

* * *

To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: I know this story has a questionable premise, so I am extremely grateful for those of you who gave it a shot and are sticking with it. Thank you. And, as always, special thanks to Lisa who helps with all the rough patches.

* * *

If Tomorrow Never Comes

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Uhura was already seated in Shuttlecraft 4, wearing her communications-calibrated tricorder and phase pistol on a dark strap that crossed her chest, when Spock stepped inside, his own tricorder and weapon belted around his waist.

"Lieutenant," he began. "Please..."

She cut him off. "No, I'm not just going to accept your apology. Not until we've really gotten to talk." Uhura glared at him. "You're not getting off that easily."

Spock was quiet for a second. "Set your phaser to stun," he finished mildly. With that, he headed for the co-pilot's seat at the front of the craft.

As Chekov and Kirk were still outside, making a final pre-flight check, Uhura didn't even bother keeping her anger at bay. "What's wrong with you?" she demanded. "Why are you being like this?"

"I do not understand your question," Spock said as he began testing the controls.

Uhura counted to ten. "Have I done something in the past hour to make you think I'm incompetent?"

"On the contrary, I believe your skills to be too valuable to be wasted on what will most likely be a routine away mission."

"That's not what you said earlier. And besides...you don't know that I won't be needed down there," she snapped. "Anything could be waiting for us."

Spock's hands momentarily froze on the craft's control panel. "Precisely." He turned his head and looked back at her. "Precisely, Nyota."

"You're not making any sense. One minute you're saying that it's a routine mission and in the next you're saying that it could be dangerous." She shook her head, her hoop earrings swaying wildly. "I never thought I'd say this to you, but you're being completely illogical, Spock!"

"It is hardly illogical to consider all possibilities when assembling an away team. I happen to know that you have only basic training in weapons and none in hand-to-hand combat."

She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. "You don't trust me to be able to take care of myself?" Before he could reply, her eyes narrowed. "I guess you're right. I mean, I'm just a girl. What do I know about away missions? I'm liable hurt myself and have to get one of you big, strapping men to carry me back to the ship!"

"Now you are being facetious."

"What I am is pissed off," Uhura snapped. "You make such a big deal about keeping our private lives separate from our professional lives...and then you go and pull this crap, treating me like your girlfriend instead of an officer. And on the bridge, too!" she added, incensed. "In front of everyone!"

Spock's back was ram-rod straight as he replied, "Perhaps we should no longer attempt to maintain a dichotomous relationship."

Uhura drew in a ragged breath. "What does that mean?"

"If it is no longer possible to keep the two halves of our relationship separate, it would be illogical to continue trying. And since we cannot cease to be in a professional association..."

She stared at him. "Is this how Vulcans break up?"

"Clearly, you are no longer happy in our arrangement," Spock replied without really answering.

"I never said..."

"Does this course of action not make sense to you, as well?"

Hot tears stung her eyes. "Does it really matter?" she whispered after a painfully long moment. "It sounds like...like you've already decided. And I guess..." Uhura lifted her shoulder as casually as possible when her chest felt like a Tarkasian boar was sitting on it. "I guess I should have been expecting this all along."

Just then, Kirk swung himself inside the shuttlecraft with Chekov on his heels. "All right, let's do this," the captain said, rubbing his hands together. Looking back and forth between his watery-eyed communications officer and his more-somber-than-usual first officer, Kirk frowned. "Everything all right in here?"

"We are clear for take-off, Captain," Spock informed him, ignoring the question.

"Okay..." Still frowning, Kirk took the pilot's seat next to Spock. "Everyone's armed? Uhura? Chekov?"

As he sat down, the young Russian man nodded emphatically. "Aye, sir." When he glanced over at Uhura, Chekov caught sight of a stray tear coursing down her cheek. Instead of saying anything, he merely offered her a smile of support as she brushed the tear away with the back of her hand.

She wanted to smile back, but she couldn't make herself. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to. How did you manage to smile again after your heart had been broken?

* * *

Although Shuttlecraft 4 was big enough to cary ten people comfortably, when two of its four passengers weren't speaking to each other, it felt much smaller.

"We are about to enter the atmosphere," Spock announced fifteen minutes into their journey. "The ionization will no doubt affect the shuttle's gyromagnetic stablizers."

Kirk looked back at Uhura and Chekov. "That's Vulcan for 'hang onto your seats 'cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride'."

He wasn't lying. By the time they broke through the upper layers of the planet's atmosphere, Uhura's stomach felt like it had been twisted into knots. Beside her, Chekov had his hand over his mouth, his face pale.

"Captain, I am detecting what could be the plasma signature of a Federation shuttlecraft," Spock said, his fingers flying over the sensor controls. "It appears to be located on the planet's southern continent."

"Laying in a course," Kirk said, his own face looking a little green.

Their landing was much smoother than the descent and not ten minutes later, they were stepping out into the pungent air of Ramatis II.

"Sulfur," Kirk said, making a face at the stench. "I can see why no one lives here."

Only Spock seemed to be unaffected by the thin, noxious air, having grown up on Vulcan. "The shuttle's plasma signature is originating approximately two kilometers to our north," he said, examining his tricorder.

"I am picking up a frequency here on the surface, Captain. It could be a distress signal from the shuttle, but I can't say for sure. It's just static," Uhura told them.

Kirk plucked his phase pistol out of his holster. "Let's go."

As they got closer to what they hoped would be the location of the _Grissom's_ shuttlecraft and its missing crew, the terrain grew rocky and uneven. Uhura considered herself to be a fairly adept hiker, having successfully climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro the year before she joined Starfleet. But these rocks were different than those she was used to back on Earth. They were composed of soft minerals that made their surface almost slippery. Her boots retained very little traction the steeper the climb became.

At one point, Uhura's foot slipped and she would have fallen backwards had Spock not been right behind her. His hands grasped her waist, holding steady.

"Careful, Nyota," he said, his lips dangerously close to her ear.

His breath against her skin made her whole body shiver. Had it really been less than twelve hours earlier that their bodies had been entwined as they'd made what she'd thought had been love? How had it all changed so drastically, so quickly?

Maybe it had been a lie from the beginning, a beautiful distortion of reality which she had allowed herself to believe in wholeheartedly. Could he have ever loved her the way she wanted him to? Or had it always been leading to this moment of truth when it became clear that they were too different, too alien to each other to ever be truly happy?

Uhura forced herself to pull away from him. "I'm fine," she tersely informed him. "Thank you for your help, Commander."

When Spock removed his hands a few seconds later, she immediately missed the heat of his fingers.

After what seemed like hours, the ground evened out, although they were still surrounded by large rock formations. In the distance, they could see the unmistakable silver glint of a Federation shuttlecraft.

"Life signs, Spock?" Kirk asked.

"I am only receiving scattered bio-signs, Captain." Spock frowned. "And I cannot be certain that they are Human."

"What else could they be?" Chekov nervously asked.

Spock lowered his tricorder. "I do not know, but I suggest proceeding with caution."

"Yeah." Kirk pressed a button on his phaser, raising it to maximum stun. "No arguments here."

They reached the shuttlecraft a few minutes later. There was no one in sight and the side door was wide open, again as if no one had been able to take the time to seal it up.

"Chekov, see if you can get any information from the shuttle's computer," Kirk ordered. Nodding, Chekov climbed into the abandoned vessel. He turned to his first officer. "Spock, see if you can..."

Uhura tuned out the rest of Kirk's order as a strange reading on her tricorder caught her eye. It was a signal of some sort, not a distress call, perhaps not even a purposeful attempt at communication, but something nearby was giving it off, and there was no way of telling if it might be the key to solving the entire mystery of the Grissom.

With that in mind, Uhura began to walk towards its source, unaware that with each step, she put more and more distance between her and the shuttle. Her eyes never left her tricorder, even as the ground once again grew rocky and unstable beneath her feet.

The signal was getting stronger. And then, all of a sudden, it stopped.

"Bljeghbe'chug vaj blHegh!"

Klingon had never been her favorite language. It was too rough, too guttural. She far preferred the ancient, elegant languages such as Bajoran and Vulcan.

But that didn't mean she didn't understand the words.

Uhura looked up slowly. Only a few feet ahead of her stood a Klingon warrior. She'd never seen one in person, but they were notoriously unmistakable.

This one was tall and so much bigger than she was. His ridged brow seemed to have been designed to be set in a permanent growl and the teeth he bared at her were broken and yellow. Gesturing with the huge weapon in his hands, he repeated himself, louder this time and with enough emphasis to make her heart leap into her throat.

Having been given the choice to surrender or die, Uhura let go of her tricorder and raised her hands.

* * *

To Be Continued


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for keeping with this story, despite its premise. I hope you'll keep reading. Special thanks, as always, to my beta/BFF, Lisa.

Oh and if you happen to live in L.A., drop me a line. I'm putting together a Los Angeles Star Trek meet-up to see the movie this weekend. The more to come along, the merrier!

* * *

If Tomorrow Never Comes

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

The inside of the abandoned shuttlecraft was so dark that Chekov didn't even notice the blood on the main controls until he'd managed to boost the auxiliary power and the overhead lights came on. Dark red drops spattered across the panels. He jerked his hands back as quickly as possible.

"Captain!" he shouted, scrambling out of the pilot's seat so fast that he landed on the floor. It didn't take him long to realize that the floor was also covered in blood...and now he was, too. "Captain Kirk!"

Kirk bolted into the shuttle and Spock followed him a second later.

"Oh shit..." Kirk breathed, looking around. The walls looked like a horror-house version of a Pollack painting. "Spock?"

"It is blood," Spock confirmed. "I will need DNA samples if we are to determine if any of it belongs to the crew of the _Grissom_. However..." He looked up from his readings. "It is not all human."

Kirk paused as he for Chekov's hand to help him up. "What else is it?"

Spock met his eye. "Some of the blood is Klingon."

"I knew it." Kirk swore violently. "I knew this wasn't just an equipment malfunction!"

Chekov looked at his bloody uniform shirt with wide, unblinking eyes. "I have never seen so much," he said numbly. He tried to wipe his hands on the gold fabric, but it only made the problem worse. "It is everywhere..."

"Hey...hey!" Kirk grabbed the younger man's shoulders. "I know this is a lot to process, but I need you to focus. We need to get into the ship's computer, okay? We need to know what happened here. Can you do that, Mr. Chekov?"

Finally, Chekov blinked. "Da. Yes." He took a breath, steeling himself. "Yes, sir."

"Good. I'm trusting you to..."

Spock cut him off. "Where is Lieutenant Uhura?"

Kirk looked around. "I thought she was right behind us."

Without a word, Spock was out of the shuttle. He barely acknowledged Kirk behind him as he began circling the vessel.

Following him, Kirk whipped out his communicator. "Kirk to Uhura. Uhura, can you hear me?" Met with silence, he shook his head. "She's not answering."

He wasn't out of breath, but Spock's chest rose and fell rapidly. "She could not have gone far." The words were logical, yet they came out with a frantic edge that was entirely Human. Spock cupped his hands around his mouth. "Nyota!"

Kirk did the same. "Uhura!"

Their voices echoed off the rock formations all around them. Spock struggled for each breath. "Nyota!" he yelled, as if raising his voice would keep his growing panic at bay. "Nyota, where are you?"

They heard the crunch of footsteps on the rocks at the same time. Together, Kirk and Spock whipped around to locate the source of the noise.

When Spock saw Uhura, a great wave of relief washed over him. But just like the tide on the shores of the San Francisco bay, it disappeared a second later as he realized who was standing behind her.

The hands she held in the air shook with understandable fear. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Kirk's face was chalk-white, but he managed to raise his phase pistol. "Stop!" Spock ordered him, more harshly than he'd ever spoken to a superior officer in his entire career. "He is a Klingon. He will kill her without hesitation."

"I thought they were supposed to be all about honor," Kirk spat out, his eyes burning a hole through the Klingon who held Uhura at gunpoint.

"It is entirely honorable to kill one's enemies." Spock's mouth felt drier than the lost deserts of Vulcan. He tried to swallow, but couldn't. "And as far as he is concerned, we are his enemies."

Kirk gritted his teeth. "Uhura...you okay?"

"I've been better," she admitted, keeping her voice as level as possible. Her eyes locked with Spock's. "It's been one of those days."

The captain nodded, silently approving of her instinct to make jokes to keep from panicking. "Don't worry," he said gravely. "We're not gonna let anything happen to you."

Still staring at Uhura, Spock interrupted him with a surprisingly composed question that he spoke in Vulcan. For her ears only.

"I don't know what he wants," she replied in Federation Standard. "He doesn't appear to have a universal translator. When we..."

The Klingon cut her off. Impatient with their babble, he began shouting in his gruff native tongue, waving his weapon wildly for emphasis.

Keeping her back straight, Uhura replied in her less-gruff version of Klingon. Whatever she said made the man laugh, only his laugh was more frightening than his scowl. Uhura winced.

Kirk looked back and forth between them, never letting his grip on his phase pistol falter. "What are they saying? Spock?"

"He asked who was in charge of the landing party," Spock told him. "She said that she was." Spock's jaw clenched. "Apparently he finds that amusing." When Kirk frowned, he continued. "She is protecting you, Jim. She wants him to believe that he already has control of our leader." He paused. "I am not certain if that is logical, but we must not reveal her charade now. Her life depends on it."

Uhura said something in Klingon which earned her a body-jarring poke in the back with the warrior's weapon. She stumbled to her knees and it took every ounce of self-discipline Spock possessed not to run forward to grab her before she hit the ground.

Kirk, on the other hand, chose to ignore any control he might have had. His officer and friend was in trouble, and he had every intention of helping her. But he only made it a few steps before the Klingon grabbed Uhura's ponytail and dragged her to her feet.

To her credit, she didn't cry out at the agonizing yanking of her hair, as she hadn't uttered so much as groan of pain when her knees had landed on the rocky ground. Blood from the scrapes trickled down her legs as the Klingon forcibly uprighted her. Her very Human instinct told her to fight back, to lash out at her attacker and win her freedom.

But then she looked at Spock. He was standing so still, with such incredible composure. She knew him well enough to know that every muscle in his body was stiff, but his face was like a expressionless mask, revealing nothing to the unknowing eye.

No, she wouldn't embarrass herself by displaying too much emotion, by making an illogical choice that might lead to all of their deaths. If there was no way out of this situation, she didn't want his last memory of her to be one that reminded him all of the differences between them.

Ignoring her stinging knees and throbbing scalp, Uhura spoke to the Klingon in his language. "Let us go," she ordered him, hoping she put the correct emphasis on the words. "We pose no threat to you or to your mission, whatever that might be. We are only here to find our missing science team."

"You have seen too much," he barked back.

Uhura took a breath. "We have seen nothing," she assured him. Gesturing around, she added, "What is there to see?"

The Klingon considered this for a second. "It is only the three of you?" he demanded to know.

She swallowed, thinking of Chekov. Had Jim sent him back to their shuttle? Wherever he was, he was out of sight and therefore safe for the moment. He had just barely turned eighteen years old...she wasn't about to drag him into this if she could avoid it. "Yes," she lied. "Just us three. We have only come to find our people."

"Your science team are all dead."

"You killed them?"

The Klingon's eyes narrowed. "There was a battle. Warriors on both sides died."

Uhura shook her head. "What happened here? What happened to our people?" she asked after he ignored her first question.

All he would say was, "They were a threat to the Empire."

"And your people?"

To this, the Klingon merely replied, "They died well."

"Do you intend to kill us, too? Are we a threat to the Empire?"

"You talk too much, woman!" The Klingon raised the back of his hand to her. "You may speak our language, but you do not know your place!"

Uhura stood her ground, even when she heard Kirk snarl, "Lay a hand on her, Klingon, and it'll be the last thing you do!"

"You have no authority here," Uhura told the warrior, looking up at his alien face. For once, she didn't have to try to make her Klingon sound guttural. She had enough anger boiling up within her to spit out the words with the proper force. "This planet is on our side of the Neutral Zone. You are outnumbered and alone. If you kill me, you'll only succeed in assuring your own death. And I don't think it would be an honorable one."

He snorted in what was almost laughter. "Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam," he replied.

Uhura swallowed. "No. Today is not a good day to die."

Just then, with the worst timing possible, Chekov emerged from the shuttlecraft. "Captain, I have found..." He trailed off as he took in the scene that he'd been completely unaware of as he'd sat in the shuttlecraft, attempting to reboot the computers. "Chyort voz'mi!" he swore in his native tongue.

Upon seeing the fourth member of their party, the Klingon's eyes flew open, enraged. "Dishonorable liar!" he shouted at Uhura. Raising his weapon, he instinctively fired.

"No!" Uhura shouted.

But it was too late. The discharged blast of energy struck Chekov directly in the stomach, throwing him back against the shuttlecraft. But instead of his body slamming into the metal, he simply vanished.

Vaporized. The perpetually eager, happy, excited officer, the youngest and most brilliant mind to come through Starfleet in years...was gone without so much as a trace.

It was like the world stopped moving. All Uhura could see was the place where Chekov had just stood. All she could remember was the first time they'd met, in the middle of the Nero crisis. Afterwards, they'd spoken Russian together, on the long nights when bridge duty seemed unending. He had parents in Moscow. A brother at Utopia Planetia. He loved pirogues. He hated vodka.

With all of that in her mind, Uhura did the only thing she could.

She fought back. For Chekov.

* * *

Throughout Uhura's conversation with the Klingon warrior, Spock had been carefully listening. Her mastery of the alien language was flawless; through all the other emotions weighing on his chest, he felt proud of her. Although he could have translated himself had she not been there, he did not possess the linguistic skill Uhura did. His Klingon would have come out with an accent. Hers sounded as though she'd grown up on Qo'nos.

"Spock, I don't like this," Kirk said, bringing him out of his thoughts. "There's two of us and one of him. Uhura can handle herself if we..."

"No." Spock's tone left no room for argument. "She is doing her job. Do yours and think before you act."

Kirk's hands tightened around his weapon. "You better hope she knows how you feel about her," he muttered. "'Cause to the outside eye, it seems like you couldn't give a shit if she lives or dies."

Uhura was so intent on translating the Klingon's words that she seemed to have completely tuned out whatever Kirk and Spock were saying to each other. She just kept firing off her questions in perfect Klingon until he raised his fist to her, as if ready to strike her for her insolence.

Kirk lost it. "Lay a hand on her, Klingon, and it'll be the last thing you do!" When he received no response from either Uhura or the warrior, he looked at Spock. "Why aren't you doing anything? She's your girlfriend, Spock!"

Girlfriend. It seemed like such a juvenile Human classification. A girlfriend was something Jim Kirk might have for a few weeks here or there. It was a completely inadequate term to describe Spock's relationship with Nyota.

Truthfully, he had yet to find the right term. She was his lover, as they had a sexual relationship, but their connection was so much deeper than merely physical. Yet, she was not his bonded mate. He had not initiated that step with her. Even when they touched in the heat of passion, he held back from exploring her mind or letting her explore his.

Why he had done so was as much a mystery to him as it probably was to her. What he had told himself over and over again, until he began to believe it, was that she was not Vulcan. She could not understand what bonding truly meant, therefore it would have been unfair to impose it upon her.

Right then, however, that excuse seemed weak and cowardly.

"Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam," the Klingon said. Spock's stomach felt as though it had just dropped to his knees. A Klingon who accepted oncoming death meant to do something that would bring about that death. In this case, it had been made clear to him that harming the woman he'd captured was one way to Sto-vo-kor, the Klingon afterlife.

Uhura's life was in danger.

"No." She spoke bravely, but he could feel her terror. She didn't just understand the words; she understood the meaning, too. "Today is not a good day to die."

In a heartbeat, everything changed. Chekov chose that moment to step out of the shuttlecraft. Only a few seconds later, he was gone. And before either Kirk or Spock could react to that, Uhura yanked her phase pistol out of the holster around her slender waist. She aimed at the Klingon, but he was a warrior from a race of warriors.

She'd never really stood a chance against him.

He knocked the phase pistol of her hand and with a single blow, sent her sprawling to the ground. True to his word, Kirk fired, but his shot missed the Klingon as he advanced on Uhura. Her lip had been split open and blood flowed down her chin, but she managed to scramble back to her feet in time to see the Klingon aim his weapon once again.

Uhura looked at Spock. In that second, he could almost read her mind, as if they had inadvertently bonded on all those nights they'd slept skin to skin.

I am yours, Spock. Forever.

The Klingon fired. And as quickly as it had been with Chekov, her body dissipated into thin air.

Nyota Uhura. His first love. His only lover. The other half of his soul. Gone. Dead. Disintegrated.

The next thing Spock knew, he had the Klingon on the ground. Having wrestled away his weapon with the incredible strength coursing through his body, Spock's fists pummeled the Klingon's face. His knuckles were pink with alien blood, but he kept going, unable to stop. When Uhura's killer was too dazed to struggle any longer, Spock didn't hesitate. He just acted on instinct.

Kirk hadn't stopped him, hadn't wanted to stop him. He knew from first hand experience what it was like to be on the receiving end of Spock's emotions, and he wanted the Klingon killer to experience that pain. But when Spock grabbed the Klingon's head and twisted and the sickening snap of broken vertebrae echoed off the rocks, Kirk had to swallow back bile.

Even after the Klingon lay dead beneath him, Spock's hands remained wrapped around his thick neck. It wasn't until Kirk said his name, quietly, firmly, that Spock released him.

Spock's chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. It seemed like the only sound on the entire planet was him struggling to put air into his lungs.

"Jim..."

Kirk nodded tightly. He didn't need...didn't want to hear whatever Spock was going to say. "I know."

Still, Spock continued, his voice as distant as the far end of the universe.

"I have lost her."

* * *

To Be Continued

A/N: Hang in there with me, everyone. Twists and turns are coming and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised... Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: Thank you so much everyone for all the amazing reviews on the last chapter. I know it was a tough one to read, so I really appreciate it. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter, too:) Thank you, as always, to Lisa for being awesome.

* * *

If Tomorrow Never Comes

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

_Spock had never given death much thought until he entered Starfleet. As a Vulcan, his life expectancy was so much greater than his Human roommates and colleagues, yet the very nature of the organization to which he'd dedicated himself forced him to ponder the idea of his own mortality with surprising regularity._

_People died in service to Starfleet every day in one sector or another. Thousands of lives had been lost within minutes to a mad man during what should have been an evacuation and rescue mission. He'd known almost every one of those fallen cadets and officers; some of them had been assigned to the various ships by his own designation._

_And while it was illogical to take the next step and say that he was responsible for their deaths, he had attended the mass memorial that had been given for them and listened carefully to each name, trying to picture the bright and eager face that had gone with it._

_Perhaps it was the fact that Nyota had come so frighteningly close to being one of those names carved into the newly erected monument at the Academy that had made Spock truly stop and consider the risks inherent in choosing a Starfleet career. On the night of the memorial service, he'd walked the campus for hours in the dark, trying to imagine what he would have been feeling right then if he hadn't changed Nyota's assignment to the _Enterprise_ at the last minute._

_Finally, the idea of it had become too much for him to bear and he'd found himself standing in front of her dorm, punching in the access code._

_She'd been crying. Her eyes were red and her lashes were wet with tears, but she managed to smile when she saw him at her door._

_"I was hoping you'd come by," she'd whispered. "Gaila's parents were just here for the last of her stuff, and I..." She'd bitten her lip for a long moment. "I really don't want to be alone tonight."_

_They'd undressed in the dark, revealing their bodies to each other for the first time. When they came together, it was unlike anything Spock had ever experienced. They moved as one by the light of the moon, meeting over and over again, faster and harder, until the world exploded into ecstasy. He'd wanted to be inside her mind, like he was inside her body, but he hadn't known if she was ready for that. Vulcans mated for life; Humans were far more flexible._

_He'd told himself that it was enough that she was alive, that they'd both survived. He could be patient. He'd wait until the right time._

_He'd allowed himself to forget everything he should have learned from the loss of so many cadets, not to mention billions of his own people._

_Life could be long, but it was never guaranteed._

* * *

The first thing Kirk could think to do was to send for another Away Team. Sulu, Scotty and McCoy arrived thirty minutes later, unaware of the nightmare into which they were landing.

Truthfully, Kirk hadn't completely processed it himself. It had all happened so fast; in what had seemed like the blink of an eye, he'd lost two of his best officers, one of whom had been painfully young, and the other who he'd considered a good friend. Certainly she'd been one of the few people in his life who'd ever put him in his place. It was a trait he had admired and valued.

It should have been him, a voice in the back of his mind screamed as he explained the situation to the second landing party. A captain was supposed to protect his crew and yet when Chekov and Uhura had needed him, he'd been utterly useless.

As trained officers, the men accepted the news with as much forced composure as possible, although Scotty did lower his head in what seemed to be a silent moment of prayer, Sulu kept swallowing, his Adam's apple bobbing and McCoy had his fist so tightly balled around the handle of his medical kit that his knuckles looked ready to split open.

"What do you need us to do?" Sulu asked Kirk.

"Chekov...he found something in the _Grissom_ shuttle's computer, but he never got a chance to..." Kirk had to stop for a second. There were so many things that Chekov had never gotten to do. He might have already graduated from the Academy and secured a position on the fleet's flagship, but had he ever gotten hopelessly drunk or thoroughly laid?

"Figure out what he found, Sulu," he continued. "Scotty, I need your help with him." He pointed to the dead Klingon. "His weapon...I've never seen anything like it." Kirk's jaw was tight with sudden anger. "I want to know what it did to them."

Scotty nodded, but his attention was focused a few yards away where Spock stood, staring down at the ground. "What do you suppose is goin' through his mind right now?" he wondered out loud.

"Mr. Scott?" When his chief engineer looked back at him, Kirk jerked his head towards the Klingon. "Let's get to work."

When the other two men headed off on their assignments, McCoy looked his old friend up and down with a doctor's eye. "You're blaming yourself, aren't you?"

"I know I didn't kill them, Bones. But it sure as hell feels like I could have stopped it." Before McCoy could reply, Kirk went on. "You're going to have to make it official." He paused. "There's no bodies, but..."

McCoy held up his hand to stop him. "I'll take care of it, Jim." He looked at Spock. "You and I both know that he probably wants to be alone right now, but if you want my medical opinion...he really shouldn't be."

"I don't know what to say to him," Kirk admitted.

"You'll figure it out. You always do." With that, McCoy headed back to the shuttle to begin composing the death certificates.

Kirk took his time approaching Spock, giving him plenty of warning as to his presence. And although Spock didn't acknowledge him, Kirk came to a stop by his side and looked down at the spot where Uhura had been savagely and suddenly ripped from their lives.

It took a minute for Kirk to notice a twisted circle of metal that Spock held in his hand. It looked vaguely familiar, but it wasn't until Spock began speaking that he recognized what it was.

"This must have come off when she was struck by the Klingon." His words came out dry and lifeless as he held up one of Uhura's earrings. "It is all I have found of her."

"You shouldn't be here, Spock," Kirk said after a moment of reverent silence. "You should take the other shuttlecraft back to the..."

"No." Spock closed his hand around the earring. "There is too much work to be done."

"Spock..." He tried again. "No one would blame you for taking some time off to..." Kirk hesitated. "I mean, we all cared about her, but you and she were..."

Once again, Spock cut him off. "It is precisely because of my relationship with Nyota that I will not rest until we understand what happened to her, as well as to Lieutenant Chekov and the crew of the _Grissom_." He brought the fist he'd made around Uhura's earring up to his mouth for a moment. "At the very least, I owe her that, Jim."

Kirk nodded slowly. "Okay." Putting a hand on Spock's shoulder, he asked, "Is there anything you need?"

_What do you need?_ Her eyes had pleaded with him in the turbolift after his entire world had fallen apart. _Tell me..._

Spock shrugged off the captain's hand. "I do not need anything except your assurance that no orders from Starfleet will supersede this investigation."

"I swear," Kirk said. "We stay here until we have all the answers."

He'd just started to walk away when Spock spoke again. "She wore these earrings on the first night we shared a meal together at the Academy." He opened up his fingers and looked down at the metal hoop. "I did not notice she put them on today."

There was a hard lump in Kirk's throat that he couldn't swallow no matter how hard he tried. "Sulu's in the other shuttlecraft, trying to sort out their computer. I bet he could use some help."

Spock inclined his chin. "That will be fine." With that, he slipped the earring into the pocket of his uniform pants and began making his way to the Grissom's shuttlecraft. Kirk watched him for a second before starting off again, towards Scotty and the dead Klingon whose weapon he was examining.

Neither man was aware of Chekov standing next to them, screaming at the top of his lungs and waving his arms wildly in a futile effort to be seen or heard.

* * *

Her whole body hurt. Drifting back from the darkness, Uhura was aware of only this fact. Pain. Everywhere. From her throbbing lip to her aching stomach to her stinging knees. She didn't want to wake up. She wanted to stay in the dark, where there was peace.

"Lieutenant!"

Through her lashes, she could barely make out a face hanging over her. He was frowning and a second later she felt his hands on her shoulders. "Lieutenant Uhura! Please wake up!"

Uhura knew that accent. "Chekov?" There would be no escape back into the darkness. She would just have to endure the pain. When he tried to shake her again, she fended him off with weak arms. "Stop...I'm awake."

He sat back on his heels and ran the bloody sleeve of his uniform across his eyes. Uhura tried to sit up, but the agonizing soreness in her stomach brought tears to the corners of her eyes. She put a hand to her ribs. "What the hell happened?"

It was only when Chekov sniffed that she realized he was valiantly trying to hold back tears of his own. "I believe...we have died."

Uhura stared at him. "Why would you even say that?"

"Because..." Chekov stopped short, shaking his head. "No. I must be showing you." Rising, he reached for her hands. "Can you stand?"

She could, but not without a little help and a lot of sweat-inducing effort. Even when she was finally on her feet, she felt dizzy and might have wound up back on the ground if Chekov hadn't grabbed her arm to steady her.

"It was like that for me, too," he told her. "The disorientation...it will pass."

Uhura ran her tongue over her lower lip, only to find it cracked and bloody. She touched her swollen mouth. "I don't understand."

Chekov nodded. "Let me show you."

Looking around, Uhura frowned. "Where are we? Where's the shuttle? Where's Jim?" She hesitated. "And Spock?" Her memory began to fall into place. "The Klingon! Where is he?" When she spun her head around, searching for that ugly alien face, the dizziness returned and she had to grasp Chekov's shoulder. "The Klingon...he...he killed you."

The young man nodded again, slowly this time. Sadly. "I am not the only one he killed."

Uhura could taste blood in her mouth. She touched her sore stomach...and had a brief flash of memory...a burning blast to the gut, the shock of impact, the slow drain into the darkness.

"Spock." Ignoring her disorientation, Uhura began walking. She had no idea where she was or what direction she needed to go, but she had to move, had to find him. "Spock!"

Chekov grasped her hand and held on even when she tried to wrestle free. "It will not be easy, but you must see for yourself."

Like a child, she let him lead her step by step, over the rocky terrain, until the outline of two shuttlecrafts lay in the distance.

"How did I get so far away?"

"I do not know. You were taken much farther than me," Chekov said. "I woke just over there." He pointed to a place just beyond the shuttle. "I did not realize what had happened until..."

Uhura was afraid to ask, but forced herself. "Until what?"

"They could not hear me." His achingly-young face was so troubled. Confused and wounded, a little boy lost. "They could not see me. I was trying everything to make them." He shook his head. "Nothing. It was as if I was not there." He paused before saying a single word in Russian.

A word that sent a chill down her spine.

Uhura's throat stuck as she tried to swallow. Without caring about her aches and pains and dizziness, she began running towards the shuttle.

She spotted Kirk and Scotty first. They were standing over the corpse of the Klingon warrior; the captain was holding the alien's weapon while Scotty ran a tricorder around it, taking readings.

"Captain!" Uhura yelled. He said something to Scotty that she couldn't hear, but never looked up. She tried again. "Jim!"

Nothing.

Chekov came up behind her. "He cannot hear or see you, Lieutenant."

Ignoring him, Uhura covered the remaining distance between them. Getting right up alongside the captain, she swore in his ear, "Jim Kirk, if you don't talk to me, I will kick you where you'll feel it the most!"

The captain looked down at the gun in his hands. "It looks like pictures I've seen of Klingon disruptors, but it's way more sophisticated."

Scotty nodded. "Aye. It's actually a lot more like a ruddy piece of science equipment than it is a weapon, you know?" He smoothed a hand over his round head, lost in thought for a moment. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Captain, but the Klingons aren't exactly known for their scientific exploits, are they?"

"No." Kirk frowned. "They're not. And I really don't like the idea of them playing around with science and weapons at the same time." He turned the gun over in his hands. "Not if this is the end result."

Uhura backed away from the men. "I don't..." She shook her head. "Why are they ignoring me?"

Before Chekov could answer, there was movement near one of the two shuttlecrafts, the one bearing the name USS Grissom. She saw the familiar blue of his uniform shirt a split second before he emerged from the shuttle.

"Spock!" She started running for him.

"Lieutenant, don't!" Chekov shouted.

But it was too late. She'd already reached Spock and thrown her arms around him...only to have them pass straight through his torso. Unaware, he kept walking, heading for Kirk and Scotty.

Uhura couldn't move. After a long time, her arms fell to her sides and her whole body began to tremble.

Chekov came up behind her and reached for her hand. His warm fingers felt like hot coals against her cold, clammy palm.

"Ghosts," he said, this time in English rather than Russian. "We are no longer alive."

"That's not entirely true."

The voice came from behind them. When they whipped around to locate the source, they saw a woman standing behind them, wearing a ripped and stained blue Starfleet uniform dress. Her blonde hair was tangled mess, caked with dirt and blood. Her right cheek was swollen and purple around a deep cut.

"We're not dead," the woman continued. "But really...we might as well be."

* * *

To Be Continued


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: Thank you so much everyone for all the kind reviews on this story. I like to write a variety of different kinds of stories (as evidenced by what I posted last night), and it's always great to receive feedback, even criticism, on them. Thank you.

Thanks also to Lisa, my made-of-win beta.

* * *

If Tomorrow Never Comes

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Unaware that he had just, quite literally, walked through his lover, Spock approached Kirk and Scotty. He avoided looking at the chief engineer at all; there was pity in the man's eyes that Spock was not at all inclined to receive. Nyota's death was like a slice across his heart that had not yet begun to bleed.

At least he had the mystery of her death to keep him distracted from the reality of never seeing her again, never holding her, never feeling her lips on his. Spock shook his head as he walked. Dwelling on his loss wasn't going to bring Nyota back.

Discovering how she'd died wouldn't either, but maybe it would help begin to close up that open wound on his heart.

"Spock." Kirk cleared his throat. "Did you and Sulu find out anything from the shuttle's computers?"

Steeling himself for the work that lay ahead, Spock inclined his chin. "According to the shuttle's flight logs, three round trips from the ship to the surface and back were made, followed by a final one-way flight from the ship to the surface. This all took place in the space of two hours."

"Well, that just doesn't make any bloody sense," Scotty piped up.

Kirk folded his arms, lost in thought. "What's the maximum passenger capacity for the _Grissom's_ shuttlecraft?"

"Ten," Spock easily replied.

"And what was the _Grissom's_ crew manifest?"

"29 members." Spock paused. "Do you believe that the entire crew came down to the surface?"

"I don't know," Kirk mused. "But if they're not on their ship..."

"We cannot say for certain that they are not," Spock pointed out. "We have not sent a team over to the _Grissom._"

Kirk looked at him. "An excellent point, Mr. Spock." He paused. "I want you and Sulu to head back to the _Enterprise_. Put together an away team and beam over to the _Grissom_. Maybe there's more clues up there."

Although he didn't say it, Spock could sense another layer of motivation behind the captain's order. Kirk was trying to get him off the planet, away from his last, painful memories of Nyota.

While part of him wanted to protest this, another very real part of him was grateful.

"Yes, Captain," was all Spock said before he started to walk away.

But Kirk stopped him before he got too far. "Spock." He looked back. "Be careful. We don't know where that Klingon came from or if he was alone."

Even though the thing that had taken Nyota from him was dead, and his pink blood still stained Spock's hands, he felt a fresh wave of anger well up from the center of his chest. "Understood," he said, barely able to keep a snarl out of his voice.

Spock had little doubt that if he were to run into another Klingon he'd be able to dispatch of it quickly.

Was this hate? It was somewhat like what he'd felt for Nero, only instead of rising to a slow boil, this emotion scorched him like fire. And yet, it didn't frighten him. It felt right. He almost wanted to encounter a Klingon, just to have an immediate target, something on which to vent this burning feeling.

It would feel good, he decided. Revenge.

Nothing was going to bring his Nyota back, but it was good to imagine that something might bring him a measure of peace someday.

After calling for Sulu to join him, Spock stepped into the _Enterprise_ shuttlecraft that had brought the second away team down to the planet and took a seat at the pilot's controls.

Upon taking a deep, calming breath, he suddenly smelled apples.

* * *

"You are seeing us?" As Uhura was still shaking from her run-in with Spock, it was Chekov who took a step towards the mysterious blonde woman. "Hearing us?" He paused, his eyes shining with hope. "We are not dead?"

"Well, that depends on how you define 'dead'," the woman replied. "But I can see you, yes. As clearly as you can see me."

Uhura wanted answers and she wanted them immediately. "Who are you?" she demanded. "What's happened to us?"

The woman blinked. "I'm sorry. I suppose I am being too cryptic. I'm Nurse Abrigine Loprax. I serve...I mean...I served aboard the _USS Grissom_." Her lower lip trembled. "I'm the only one left."

"The Klingons?" Uhura asked after a moment.

Abrigine nodded. "We came here for a geological study of the surface, but when our first landing team arrived..." She folded her arms tightly around her body, protecting herself against unwanted memories. "They were already here. We lost contact with the team, but their ship...it uncloaked in orbit and..." She shook her head violently. "We're a science vessel with one phaser bank. We didn't have any choice." Her wet, hazel eyes sought out Chekov's. "We surrendered."

"Logical," Uhura heard herself murmur. When Chekov glanced her, she looked away.

"We should have fought them," Abrigine continued, unaware. Her voice had taken a hard edge. "They shuttled us all down here...all 29 of us."

"Why?" Chekov asked.

The nurse touched her bruised cheek. "I don't really know. They didn't have translators and our communications officer..." It took her a moment to compose herself enough to go on. "They'd killed him."

"So, you don't know what they were doing down here?" Uhura waited until the woman shook her head. "When you say your officer was killed...do you mean, killed like this? Like us?"

Abrigine gave a slight shake of her head. "He did not disappear. That came later, after we were all here."

"I don't understand." Uhura's whole body still throbbed, but she took a few steps closer to the nurse. "Why would a group of Klingons kidnap a crew of Federation scientists and take them planet-side for execution instead of just blowing up their ship?"

"And how is there Klingon blood inside the shuttlecraft?" Chekov wondered. "Did your crew fight them?"

The questions clearly upset Abrigine. "I don't know. I don't know what happened! When I arrived...they were yelling and I couldn't understand them. I just saw our captain and our comm officer...on the ground. I had my medical kit..." She touched the black box hanging at her hip. "I tried to go to them...to see if I could do anything...but they stopped me." She moved her hand up to her wounded cheek. "I blacked out. When I came around...they were arguing with each other."

"And you can't say about what?" Uhura urged.

"I think maybe they didn't know what to do with us." Abrigine lifted her slender shoulders. "One of our geologists was near me; he spoke a little Klingon. He said they kept talking about the heart of the Empire."

Uhura frowned. "Could it have been the honor of the Empire? The Klingon words for 'honor' and 'heart' are almost identical."

Abrigine nodded. "It could have been, yeah. The honor of the Empire." She paused. "I think they saw us as a threat."

"How would you be a threat to them?" Uhura asked.

"Perhaps your away team saw something they were not meant to see," Chekov suggested.

The nurse nodded slowly. "That would make a lot of sense. I mean..."

Uhura's eyes darted back and forth. "They haven't left," she abruptly said, cutting off Abrigine

Chekov frowned, puzzled. "Lieutenant?"

"The Klingons." She put a hand to her mouth. "They're still here. On the planet. In orbit with the Enterprise!" Uhura whipped around, seeking out Spock in the distance as he started walking away from Kirk and Scotty. "Everyone is in danger! We have to find a way to warn them!"

"There's no way to do that!" Abrigine told her. "I don't know exactly what those Klingon weapons did to us, but they've made us totally invisible. More than that, actually. We're not only invisible, we go right through anything solid." She paused. "Except for each other." To demonstrate, she reached out and put a hand on Chekov's arm.

Chekov looked down at the small hand on his arm. Swallowing, he asked, "How do you know that we are not ghosts?"

"Because..." Abrigine's fingers tightened around a handful of his uniform sleeve. "We can still die. I've watched it happen...to the others." She looked into his eyes. "How do ghosts die?"

Uhura interrupted the silent moment that passed between them. "Spock." They looked at her as she pointed to her lover as he walked towards the shuttlecraft. "He's leaving." Without another word, she started running towards him.

"Lieutenant Uhura!" Chekov ran after her with Abrigine on his heels. They caught up at the entrance to the shuttlecraft. "It is better that we should stay together," he panted.

"I'm going with him," Uhura said defiantly. "Back to the ship."

Abrigine nodded. "Then we're coming with you." Uhura frowned, but she stood her ground. "I've been stuck here for thirteen days. Nothing is stopping me from getting off this planet."

Without so much as a nod of agreement, Uhura started up the shuttlecraft steps. Inside, Spock was just sitting down at the controls. As Abrigine and Chekov took seats towards the back, Uhura followed Spock to the cockpit. She hesitated before reaching out to touch his cheek. When her fingers slipped smoothly through his skin, she drew her hand back, like she'd touched fire.

"Nyota."

Her heart skipped a beat. With a frown marring his face, he looked around, his eyes settling on nothing even as they passed over her.

"Spock, I'm here," Uhura said, choking on the words. "I'm here...please see me. Please..."

After a second, he turned back around in his seat and began making his pre-flight check. He was still working steadily when Sulu entered the craft and took the co-pilot's seat next to him. Uhura moved to avoid coming into contact with the man's body.

When she shifted to the side to allow Sulu by, Spock's head turned around again and he inhaled deeply.

"Are you all right, sir?" Sulu asked.

"Do you smell apples, Lieutenant?"

Sulu was clearly worried about his commanding officer now. "Apples?"

Spock replied slowly, almost as if he was talking to himself. "She smelled of apples today." He paused. "It was her lotion." A second later, he'd regained a hold on himself and he looked back at the controls. "The scent must be lingering in the environmental system."

"Um...sir?" Sulu hesitated. "Lieutenant Uhura didn't come down in this shuttlecraft."

Uhura watched Spock's hands freeze in place on the control panel. "Prepare for immediate take-off, Mr. Sulu," he ordered a second later, his tone gruff enough to make his co-pilot blink.

"Yes, sir."

"Spock," Uhura whispered. "I'm here...I'm right here...you have to know it. You have to feel it..." A sob wracked her body. "Why can't you feel it?" she shouted.

At Chekov's gentle urging, Uhura backed into seat, her sudden burst of anger draining away into despair as the shuttlecraft lifted off the ground. "We may not be dead," she said numbly. "But we are in hell."

Chekov shook his head. "We have done nothing to deserve hell." He took Uhura's cold hands in his. "We are alive and we will find a way to be seen again."

Uhura forced a smile, relieved when he released her. Let him be optimistic. She was stuck in a reality where she was invisible to her lover and powerless to warn him of any danger he might be heading towards.

* * *

To Be Continued


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. Life interferes, the muse takes a vacation...all the usual excuses:) If you're here reading it, thanks for sticking with the story! I hope you enjoy it! Thanks to Lisa for all her help.

* * *

If Tomorrow Never Comes

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Sulu made a smooth landing in the shuttlebay, ending the short, but silent journey from the planet to the ship.

As soon as it was safe, Spock was out of his seat, unaware that Uhura was only inches away from him, ready to follow him off the shuttle. "Transporter Room 2 in twenty minutes," he told Sulu.

The pilot nodded. "Aye, sir." He hesitated before adding another, "Sir?" Spock turned his head slightly, impatiently acknowledging him. "I'm really sorry for..."

Spock cut him off. "You are not responsible for what happened on the planet, Mr. Sulu."

"Of course not, sir, but I just wanted you to know that..." Before he could finish, Spock ducked out the door. Sulu let out a sigh. "We cared about her, too," he finished to himself. "Both of them."

Uhura turned to Chekov as Sulu locked down the shuttle. "I know you don't want to split up, but I have to stay with Spock."

"He's going to beam over to the Grissom," Abrigine reminded her. "You won't be able to go with him then."

"All the more reason to stay with him while I can," Uhura told the nurse between clenched teeth. "I have to get him to see me somehow."

The other woman shook her head. "I've already told you that's impossible."

"Make it possible!" Uhura looked back at Chekov. "You have the most brilliant mind in Starfleet. If anyone can figure out what's happened to us and how to reverse it, it's you, Pavel." She paused before adding in Russian, "I know you can do this."

Blood rushed to the boy's cheeks; he looked down at his shoes to hide the blush. "I will do my best."

"I'll meet you in Sickbay," Uhura promised.

"Why Sickbay?" Abrigine asked.

"Because it's only two decks up and I'm pretty sure the turbolifts aren't going to work for us." Spock had to be almost out of the shuttlebay; she'd have to run to catch up to him. "We'll have to use the Jefferies tubes to get around the ship by ourselves." Uhura started off. "Good luck," she called out over her shoulder.

"We're going to need a hell of a lot more than luck," Abrigine sighed.

Chekov opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when Sulu unknowingly walked straight through him on his way out of the shuttle. Startled, Chekov nearly lost his balance. When he'd recovered, he swore in Russian. "I truly do not like that."

"It gets easier."

"How are you knowing that?" Chekov frowned. "Are there things you have not told us?"

Abrigine offered him a sad smile. "Come on. We've got some climbing to do."

* * *

News of the loss of two officers had rippled through the Enterprise, turning the bustling ship into a silent graveyard.

He had never known just how many people were aware of his relationship with Nyota, but clearly he'd underestimated the number. As Spock made his way through the blinding white corridors towards the bridge, every single person he passed avoided all contact with him, mumbling generic apologies as they moved out of his path.

They meant well. He'd been around Humans long enough to realize that their actions were an acknowledgement of the grief they assumed he couldn't feel for himself, as well as an expression of their own shock and sorrow. Nyota had been popular amongst the crew, as she had been at the Academy. She'd always made friends so easily.

Spock stepped into the turbolift and waited for the doors to close. The first time he'd seen her she'd been surrounded by three or four other women who were taking his advanced subspace communications class. After that, it seemed like he saw her all the time, but she was never alone: in the mess hall with her roommate, on the quad with her study group, or walking across campus late at night on the arm of a male cadet. It was only when the latter began to bother Spock that he realized she'd gotten to him, too.

Nyota had been so full of life and energy and promise that people had flocked to her naturally. He'd never been able to figure out why, with all of that Human interaction, she'd chosen to be with him.

And now he never would.

Spock's hand shot out and hit the button to stop the turbolift. He held onto the panel, drawing in deep calming breaths until the sudden tightness in his chest passed. When he regained control over his pulse, he pressed the button to resume the lift and a few short moments later, he arrived on the bridge.

With all eyes on him, or perhaps on the Klingon blood splattered across his uniform, Spock addressed the crew. "I am putting together an away team to beam over to the Grissom. I will be taking a security team as well as two volunteers. We will be leaving in twenty minutes from Transporter Room 2."

He hesitated, unsure if he should, or even could address the proverbial elephant in the room. "As many of you are aware, two members of the crew have been...lost. It is my belief..." He involuntarily swallowed. "...that they would not want us to mourn for them until our mission is complete." A moment passed in awkward silence until Spock finished with, "I trust you will all continue..." Once again, his throat closed up without warning. "...continue performing admirably."

Spock turned on his heel and retreated back into the empty safety of the turbolift. Once upon a time, when he'd lost the first woman he'd ever loved, Nyota had followed him here, held him, kissed him and asked him what he needed her to do to help him make sense of it all.

But there was no one to follow him now. And even if someone had, what would he have told them?

The only thing he needed was gone forever.

* * *

McCoy's hand felt like lead as he punched his authorization code into the Grissom's shuttle's keypad, making the record of Chekov and Uhura's deaths official. Killed in the line of duty. He snorted. Murdered was more accurate. Senselessly slaughtered.

"Dammit," he swore, pushing away from the console. "It doesn't make any sense!"

"They were vaporized, Bones."

Kirk's voice made McCoy swear again. "Vaporized, my ass. Vaporization leaves traces." He gestured wildly. "There's nothing out there, Jim. No DNA, no nothing."

"Well." Weary, Kirk lowered himself into the co-pilot's seat, ignoring the dried blood. "I guess the Klingons are really, really good at vaporizing."

McCoy let out a reluctant sigh. "Maybe."

A moment passed before Kirk asked, "Did you..."

"Yeah." McCoy hit a button on the console. The computer began reading the death certificate that McCoy had just composed.

"Lieutenant Nyota Uhura of the United States of Africa, senior communications officer on board the USS Enterprise under the command of James T. Kirk, deceased on stardate..."

"Computer, stop." Kirk ran his hands down his rugged face. "She's really gone, Bones."

McCoy lowered his chin. "Did you talk to him?"

Kirk didn't need to ask to whom he was referring. "For a minute."

"Let me guess. He's holding up," McCoy muttered.

"On the outside," Kirk mused. "But inside...he's a wreck."

Just then, Scotty thundered up the steps and into the shuttle. "Captain, I think I'm starting to figure out this..." He stopped upon seeing the blood-splattered walls. "Fuck me! What the bleedin' hell happened here?"

Kirk ignored the question, focusing instead on the weapon in his engineer's hands. "What have you figured out, Mr. Scott?"

Blinking, Scotty looked down at the Klingon's gun. "Ah, well, it is a disruptor, there's no doubt about that, but it's been refitted. See here?" He indicated a cross section of the weapon. "Something's been added to it; you can tell where it's been taken apart and put back together again." He frowned. "Downright shoddily, too. Like it was done in a hurry."

"What's been added to it?" McCoy asked.

Scotty shrugged. "Won't know that 'til I can get it back to Engineering, sir."

"A new weapon." Taking the disruptor, Kirk turned it over in his hands. "Capable of traceless vaporization."

Scotty frowned at this. "I don't know about that." The other men waited for him to go on. "Well, it's just simple physics, Captain. Just like you can't create matter, you can't destroy it. Doesn't matter how good it is, no phaser or disruptor can ever make something just up and disappear."

"Do you have another explanation as to how Chekov and Uhura died, then? Because I saw them each hit with a blast from this weapon. I watched them vanish right in front of me. I saw their faces as they died." Kirk gripped his knees hard enough that his knuckles turned white. "If you've got another theory, I'd be happy to hear it. But trust me...they're gone."

"Aye, laddie," Scotty murmured. "Aye."

McCoy glanced at Kirk. "We should head back to the Enterprise."

Kirk nodded his agreement. "But we're taking this thing with us." He looked around the bloody shuttle. "I don't think it's told us everything just yet."

* * *

Not being able to hold Spock was killing Uhura.

Ever since he'd almost lost control of his emotions in the turbolift on the way to the bridge, her fingers had literally been aching to touch him. Now, as she followed him back to his quarters, it had become almost unbearable to be so close to him and yet so far away.

Uhura hadn't spent a lot of time in Spock's quarters; by silent agreement, they spent most of their private time together in her room. Spock had once said that his room was a sanctuary for his mind, a place of spiritual reflection and meditation. Her room, on the other hand, was a sanctuary for his heart, even if he'd never been able to admit it.

She'd allowed him to be Human in her quarters. Here, he was entirely Vulcan.

And yet the first thing he did after the door slid closed was to violently strip off his uniform shirt. He stuffed the stained garment into the garbage disposal, rather than the laundry unit. When he looked down at his black undershirt, it must have seemed stained to him as well. He got rid of it just as quickly and permanently, along with his pants.

Uhura followed him into the bathroom and watched as he programmed the shower to the hottest setting possible. He stepped under the steaming spray a moment later, closing the shower door behind him.

On the other side, Uhura watched him. He wasn't bathing so much as he was letting the near-scalding water cascade over him. After a long moment, his palm slammed against the frosted glass, like he needed support to keep standing.

She reached out, placing her hand against his, lightly, without any pressure that might send her fingers through the glass. With just the shower door separating them, it was almost like touching him.

Almost.

Spock stepped out a minute later and wrapped a towel around his waist. His dark hair was slick and plastered to his forehead; she would have given anything to be able to run her hands through it, spiking it in crazy patterns as she'd always loved to do whenever they had showered together.

He dried off and started to dress, but only managed to pull on a fresh pair of dark uniform pants before he sank down onto the edge of his bed.

"Computer," Spock said after a moment. "Play communication file 105."

Uhura's own voice filled the room. "Well, Spock, here I am on Risa. Remind me again why I agreed to spend my spring break here with Gaila instead of with you on Vulcan? Oh, that's right! You told me I needed more Human interaction." The voice on the recording laughed softly and the sound made Spock close his eyes. "Human interaction...on an alien planet with my alien roommate. If you were nervous about introducing me to your parents, you could have just said so." There was a pause. "I miss you. That's not logical, I know. It's only been a few days. But I do. I miss how you put your hand on my back. I don't think you realize how much you do it, but I miss feeling it. And...I miss kissing you. Again, not logical. We've only kissed once. I guess it left an impression. I can't wait to get back so I can kiss you again."

Another pause followed. Uhura could remember everything she'd felt when she'd made this recording, and at the moment of this pause, her heart had been beating so hard and so fast that she'd been afraid he'd be able to hear it.

"The only good thing about this trip so far is that it's made one thing very clear to me. Whether either of us is ready for it or not, I'm falling in love with you, Spock."

"Stop." Spock's voice was strangled. "Computer, stop!" Bending at the waist with his elbows on his knees, Spock bare back rose and fell with each heavy breath.

Uhura knelt down in front of him. "Spock," she whispered, ignoring the moisture collecting in her eyes. "Please...I need you to see me. I'm not dead. I'm here...I haven't left you." Her shoulders trembled. "Please, Spock..."

His head jerked up. "Nyota." Tears rolled down her cheeks as his infamous composure cracked. His jaw clenched; his forehead crumpled in agony.

"I never told you...I should have told you..." Spock opened his blood-shot eyes and looked straight through her. "I was falling, too."

* * *

To Be Continued


End file.
